


Baby of Mine

by SmoulderingOcean



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Family, Fatherhood, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Missing Scene, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 06:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19740436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoulderingOcean/pseuds/SmoulderingOcean
Summary: His pain must show because when Nick glances up at Rita, he notices an unusual expression on her face that he's never seen directed at him before. It wasn't quite pity, but sorrow perhaps? Whatever it was, it was the kind of look that made Nick feel a little bit better. It didn't say much while simultaneously saying everything he needed in that moment from a friend.A missing moment between Nick and Rita. Occurs between 2x11 and 2x12.





	Baby of Mine

> From your head to your toes,  
>  You're so sweet, goodness knows.  
>  You are so precious to me,  
>  Cute as can be, baby of mine.
> 
> _-Baby Mine, Dumbo_

* * *

The house was quiet as Nick crept into the kitchen and filled the kettle, placing it on the stove. Since June had given birth to their daughter it had become his nightly ritual to sneak into the house and linger for a few minutes with a cup of tea, trying to be as close to his baby as possible.

That was all he could do for her right now. Quitting smoking was his only other accomplishment. It was small and felt pointless, but at least Nick could do that for his baby girl. It was something. Being nearby and healthy for her was something.

It had been two weeks since she'd been born. Two weeks since Nick had last seen June. The wound in his heart ached all the time. The physical injuries from the confrontation with the Guardians and the interrogation with the Eyes were nothing in comparison to being apart from June and their baby.

He was a father now, but he didn't feel like one. He hadn't even held his daughter yet. He'd give anything to do so, even just once. He desperately wanted to scoop her up into his arms and kiss her little head and tell her how much he loves her, but he can't and the thought kills him.

Nick would do anything to get her out of this place, even if it was the last thing he ever did. The frantic desperation he had felt for months had grown frenzied in the days since she'd been born. Getting June and their baby out to safety was all he could think about. Nothing else mattered. He needed them safe more than anything.

But it was impossible to do on his own. He needed help and no one was willing to do anything. He'd begged his connections in Mayday to get them out and they'd refused. Nick had no one. He felt more alone than ever.

At this point it wasn't even about surviving each day, but rather each second. Nick felt devoid of hope, filled with the same empty agony that had been his constant companion from when his brother had died to until he'd met June. However this time it was impossible to numb the pain and distance himself mentally. How could he from the love of his life and their daughter? They were his whole world.

Nick was more in love with June than ever. Having a child with her had made everything all the more clear: he wanted to raise a family with her and grow old together. Nothing else could be better than spending his life with June and watching their daughter grow up.

He closes his eyes and thinks of their baby as he waits for the water to boil. He hadn't gotten a good look at her in 11 days (Serena didn't allow him near her), but he'd memorized exactly what she looked like.

Nick sighs as her tiny beautiful face becomes clear in his mind _._ She was the most incredible being he'd ever laid eyes on. The only time he'd been able to get a good look at her was when he'd driven her to the house after she'd been discharged from the hospital. He can't bring himself to think the word home because this was not her home. The only home she would have is with her real family.

Even though Nick couldn't hold her or look at her, he feels compelled to be near her. And so each night he spends a few minutes making a cup of tea and savouring it in the kitchen while he waits to see if she'll cry because that was the only way he could be close to her. He felt like the shittiest person on earth, waiting for his baby to cry. What kind of father did that? In his mind not a very good one.

Each little cry was like a knife through his heart. He had to fight the urge to run up to the nursery and comfort her. He was on thin ice as it was with the Waterfords- getting caught with the baby would be deadly. No matter how much he needs it, he can't go up there to be with her. Not even if he knew it was just Rita that was awake.

Nick was certain that she was the one who took care of his baby at night despite the Waterfords claiming otherwise. That was pure bullshit, he had always known that. The baby was nothing more than a status symbol to the Commander and a doll for Serena to control. The thought made him furious. He'd give up everything to be a proper father to his daughter, but all he could do was stand here like a useless lump while they stole everything from him and from June.

But still, at least he could stand here. June couldn't and he knew that she'd give anything just to be in his position. Being able to sneak around was precious, even if it put him in a dangerous position.

That danger meant that Nick's nightly excursions into the house were carefully planned down to the minute. He had to be safe. June and their daughter needed him to be safe. What use would he be to them otherwise? Safe and helpless was better than reckless and dead.

And so he plans things obsessively. He would sit around his apartment until just after 10 at night, then he would grab a book and sit out on the porch. At that time Eden would being taking her nightly bath, holed away in the washroom for over an hour doing god knows what sort of teenage bullshit. As he sat outside, Nick would watch the lights of the house, observing as they changed- first the Commander heading into his office and then Serena going to her room. Once he was sure she was settled upstairs for the night, he would rush into the house and hover in the kitchen, waiting for the chance to hear his daughter cry.

Nick had even planned an escape just in case he was caught. On the off chance that someone walked in on him in the kitchen, he had a readymade excuse of their tea being superior to his own and how he needed a cup before bed. It was easily believable. But Nick hadn't been caught yet and he doesn't plan on it.

He flinches as the shrill whistle of the kettle jolts him out of his thoughts. Nick has to bow his head and steel himself before pouring the water into his cup. He didn't have much longer to wait around before he had to head back to his apartment. He didn't always hear her cry during these stolen minutes. He tries not to be disappointed by that. His baby not crying was a good thing even though it meant yet another day where he couldn't connect with her. At least they were in the same house for a little while. That was something.

Nick looks out the window at the blackness of the night, slowly sipping his tea as he thinks of the day he brought her into the house. It had been his birthday. Seeing his baby girl for the first time had been one of the greatest gifts in his life. He just wishes it hadn't happened while bringing her to the home of her kidnappers. It had felt like he was being punished for everything he'd ever done wrong. 

That day had been one moment of agony after another, buoyed only by the few seconds he'd been able to look at his daughter.

The announcement of her name had been one of the most difficult moments in his life.

"We've named her Nichole Joy," Serena had said to the other wives while she clung to the Commander's arm, looking up at him in false adoration. "It's after the driver. He saved the life of our baby and we want to express our gratitude towards him by honouring him in the name of our child."

He remembers how the look of the Commander had faltered as he shifted uncomfortably. But Serena's expression had been pointed and Nick immediately understood her motivations- to remind the Commander he wasn't man enough to father a child and to remind Nick he would never be allowed to be her dad.

The pain had hit him in waves. Having a baby should have been the most joyful moment in his life, but Gilead had taken that away from him. It was excruciating to think of how he might not get to be a dad and being reminded of that by his daughter's kidnapper made it all the more agonizing. This place constantly reminded him of that enough as it was.

Nick rubs a hand over his face as he recalls being forced to participate in the ceremony that had been concocted by one of the Aunts to replace the lost birth ceremony. He'd driven the car up the driveway lined with handmaids, his heart sinking when had realized that June not among them. He then opened the car door and stood at attention, allowing for Serena to carry his daughter into the house. He'd felt utterly helpless in that moment, unable to stop one of his worst nightmares from happening.

In the seconds that it had taken Serena to settle the baby in her arms after stepping out of the car, Nick had stolen a few precious glances at her. That was all it took for him to be flooded with an overwhelming rush of love, one so powerful he couldn't comprehend it.

Nick can't help but smile as he thinks of how beautiful his daughter is and how sweet she looked when he first laid eyes on her. He'd memorized every little feature she had: the curve of her nose, the slope of her forehead, the softness of her cheeks; the way her hands had been curled into little fists and how she sucked on the left one; how her eyes shifted around, attempting to take in the world around her. He committed it all to memory and went over it every single night, living on the details. She was so incredibly breathtaking.

Nick thinks she will look just like June and the thought floods him with an indescribable emotion. He truly couldn't imagine anything better. He longs to tell June that and to say how proud of her he is, and to tell her how grateful he is that they've been blessed with this tiny perfect person and that he loves them both deeply. There's so much he wishes he could say to her.

Grimacing as he notices the time, he swallows the last of his tea in a smooth motion. As Nick rinses out his teacup, dull brown dredges swirling down the drain, he becomes lost in a daydream of a perfect Saturday with June and their daughter: pancakes in bed, Disney movies, and cuddles. He could smell the sticky sweetness of the syrup, he could hear the childish laughs of his daughter, and he could feel the warmth of June's skin. It was perfect.

Nick is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't hear Rita come into the kitchen and flinches as he hears her sharply say, "You'd better not be stealing any more of my good coffee."

He exhales heavily, trying to calm his pounding heart. "It was tea. I figure you need the coffee more than I do."

Rita scrutinizes him carefully and Nick leans back against the counter, trying to look casual. He felt like he was 17 all over again and getting caught by his dad after he'd snuck into the house after his curfew.

She rolls her eyes at him, shifting the basket of laundry on her hip. Nick noticed how exhausted she looked and felt bad that he couldn't do more to help, but he was pressing things enough as it was by even being here in the first place.

"What are you doing?" Rita says gruffly.

Nick is caught off guard and rubs his thumb nervously against his palm as he fumbles for the right words from his pre-planned excuse.

"I couldn't sleep, figured some tea would help." As he says the words, Nick realizes that they're partially true- he hadn't had a good night's sleep since the nights in the Boston Globe with June. That just wasn't why he was here- the tea would do nothing to help him sleep.

"Must be nice," she replies bitterly.

Nick felt guilty again. He should be the exhausted one, doing laundry at 11 at night after soothing a fussy baby. He would love to be unable to sleep because of his daughter because it would mean being a real dad.

His pain must show because when Nick glances up at Rita, he notices an unusual expression on her face that he's never seen directed at him before. It wasn't quite pity, but sorrow perhaps? Whatever it was, it was the kind of look that made Nick feel a little bit better. It didn't say much while simultaneously saying everything he needed in that moment from a friend.

Their eyes meet from across the kitchen and Nick feels a sudden rush of gratefulness for all the things Rita does _._ There would never been enough words for him to express his gratitude that she was taking care of his daughter like she was her own. It was everything to him.

Clearing his throat, Nick simply says, "Thank you for taking care of her."

Rita softens and nods imperceptibly. "She's a good baby."

Nick feels tears well up in his eyes and has to look away, dropping his head to study the shadows that crisscross the floor like the iron bars of a prison, locking him into a world away from his family.

"She's very cute," he hears Rita add as she steps closer to him and places the laundry basket on the floor.

"She's amazing," Nick responds, lifting his head with pride.

He watches Rita avert her gaze for a moment, composing herself. He is touched by her show of emotion. Seeing someone genuinely care, especially in a place like this, meant a lot to him.

Her eyes meet his again and the silence between them grows heavy, making him shift awkwardly. Nick didn't know how to respond.

"She's quite chunky," Rita dryly murmurs, breaking the tension. He smiles at this information despite himself. He remembers how June once told him how much she loved fat babies and now he truly understood what she meant- they really are cute. His smile falters when he remembers that she's not here to see their adorable daughter for herself.

"9lbs 4oz," Rita says suddenly, and Nick shakes his head, not daring to hope that this is what he thinks it is.

"The baby's birth weight. She was 9lbs 4oz and 19 inches long. That's why she's so chunky. She's a short, fat baby," Rita tells him with the barest hint of a smile on her face. "Born late at night. Fitting for her, she already seems to like nights better considering she keeps me up at all hours."

Nick is flooded with a rush of warmth. These small details were intoxicating and he commits them to memory, storing them away in the safety of his heart. He desperately wants to share this with June and his emotional high comes crashing down when he realizes that he can't.

He turns to look out the window, rubbing a hand over his face. The happiness that had overwhelmed him mere moments ago gave way to a crushing sorrow. Nick wants to hold his daughter and be a real family with June more than anything, but it all felt so impossible.

Rita touches him affectionately on the shoulder and Nick's thoughts stop in their tracks. She'd never done that before.

"She has a little bit of dark hair," she says quietly, giving him a knowing look.

He stops breathing for a moment. Not for the first time today, Nick feels like crying. It was the first time someone had truly acknowledged him as a father and that means everything to him. His chest was tight and every breath felt like liquid fire. He was overwhelmed by emotions and didn't know what to do.

Just then he hears his daughter begin to wail. Nick snaps his head upward towards the sound. More than anything he wanted to rush upstairs and cradle her in his arms. He stumbles forward, determined to do just that, only to be stopped by Rita's grip tightening on his shoulder.

"Nick, you can't go up there. It's early and Serena is still awake. If you get caught...." she trails off, her mouth setting in a hard line. 

He nods curtly, his hands curling into fists as the sound of the baby's cries reverberate in his skull. Nick couldn't risk himself or Rita, no matter how badly needed to go up there. The cries sharply increase in volume, making him flinch. He had to get out of here or he'd lose his mind.

Bending down, Nick grabs the basket of dirty baby things before Rita can react. "I've got it," he tells her.

She looks at him skeptically as she begins to move away, clearly relieved to have one less thing to do.

"Nick..." she begins, touching her fingers lightly together, "Stop doing this to yourself."

He shook his head mutely. He couldn't stop. It was one of the only things he could do for his daughter. He wouldn't give that up, no matter how much it wrecked him inside.

Rita rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath that Nick can't quite catch, though he's sure it's not complementary in the least.

Just as she exits the kitchen, Nick softly says, "Thank you, again."

She nods at him once before hurrying away towards the nursery. 

Nick waits until he hears the familiar creak of the floorboards and the softening of his baby's cries and then leaves the kitchen and heads into the small laundry room.

The quiet stillness of the room and the heavy scent of bleach comforts him as he slowly empties the basket of baby clothes and blankets into the washer. He puts in each item individually, slowly savouring the opportunity to touch her things. This was as close as he'd ever been to her. It was one of the most exhilarating moments of his life.

Close to the bottom of the basket, Nick pauses as he inspects a little pink and white hat, the cotton impossibly soft between his fingers. He still couldn't believe she was so tiny. It amazed him that people could be so small.

After hesitating a moment, Nick presses it against his nose. There was something so primal, so instinctual about the faint scent that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Without thinking, he quickly pockets the hat. He had to have something of his daughter with him and surely no one would notice one small hat gone missing.

Sooner than he'd like, he finishes loading the washer. Exhaling heavily, Nick starts the machine and leaves the room.

The path to his apartment is icy and Nick knows he needs to take care of that or Serena would surely have his head. But on second thought, maybe she'd slip and break her neck on the off chance she came this way. That would take care of a lot of his problems.

Nick pauses at the bottom of the stairs. Touching the soft fabric of his daughter's baby hat in his pocket, he steels himself before climbing up the iron steps. He can't help but stop at the top, looking out towards June's darkened windows. His heart grows heavy as he thinks of how she's been sent away. He feels like such a horrible person for wallowing in his sorrow when things were so much worse for her. At least he could be close enough to their daughter to hear her cries and touch her things. June didn't have any of that.

He takes one last glance at the house, relieved that the nursery light is now off, and then steps inside to yet another prison.

Nick undresses in the bathroom, carefully tucking the baby hat into the pocket of his pyjama pants. His fingers brush against it again and a tiny flicker of hope blossoms in his chest. He felt less alone now.

He eases into bed, not wanting to wake Eden. She had finally given up on trying to get him to be the husband she'd prayed for, but he didn't want to take any chances. Still, he hopes she finds some sort of peace in her dreams, just so long as they don't involve him. The kid deserved some sort of happiness in this desolate place.

Laying on his side as close to the edge of the bed he could get, Nick repeats his daughter's birth details in his head. '9lbs 4ozs, 19 inches long. Born at night'. These were the things that made his daily agony more bearable.

Closing his eyes, Nick brings to mind the perfect Saturday and relaxes. He would fight forever to ensure that he, June, and their daughter would get that. It was his promise to them.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've honestly been working on this on and off since March, and I realized that sitting on this wasn't going to make it any better and so I decided to post it. Plus I've really been missing both Rita and Nick this season and figured sharing this could fill the void for anyone else that feels the same way. 
> 
> Nick and Rita's relationship is criminally underutilized and I really enjoyed exploring it here. Rita is a surprising person and I think she cares very deeply about Nick and would want to support him in some way while trying to mitigate his risk-taking behaviour, and so this idea was born. Also, the trailers for Dumbo were playing a lot when I first started really thinking of this idea and the song 'Baby Mine' really inspired me to write out Nick's emotional struggles since Holly was born as the sadness of the song feels so fitting for Nick and June's situation.
> 
> For my metric using friends, Holly's birth stats are 4195g and 48.26cm.
> 
> Thanks for reading and please review if you can! :)


End file.
